I’m lying in a hospital bed and wondering if my life will continue. I wasn’t shot, stabbed or involved in a car accident.

It was four months ago, and I was contemplating suicide. Without FAU, I wouldn’t have been able to overcome depression.

I felt lousy and overwhelmed beyond reason. I didn’t want to accept it or admit it.  Like many of my fellow students, I tried to find outlets to help me through my troubles.
“[Students] might be aware that they aren’t well, or they are aware that something is different about them but [don’t] understand what it is,” says Arlene Faranda, a psychiatric nurse practitioner at the Counseling Center on the Boca campus. “A big part of the role of the Counseling Center is … to educate someone about what it is they’re feeling and what you call it and what you do to make it better.”

First, I tried sticking with the things I grew up loving, like playing basketball or chilling with friends. I also tried new things, like working out and getting out of the house as much as possible in hope that my stress might dissipate. But at the end of the day, I was still miserable. 

I knew I needed to get help when I realized every night ended with more tears and less sleep.

I decided to go to the Counseling Center. Faranda explained that isolation is common among young people dealing with stress or depression.
“It’s one of the typical first reactions and typical ways people try to cope [with stress],” Faranda says. “If there is so much going on inside, some people will withdraw, [to] try and understand, try to process it, try to cope.”

I wasn’t connecting with my friends like I used to, and my family didn’t realize what I was going through because they were dealing with their own problems.
“[Some students talk] with their family, close friends, their pastor or minister. … If they still struggle, then many will come to the Counseling Center,” says Faranda.

So I avoided phone calls, texts and meetings with many of my “friends” and family who weren’t doing me any good.

Since I was taking classes at the Jupiter campus at the time, I decided to go to the Counseling Center and see Phillip Cromer, the assistant director of counseling services.

Looking back, I probably should’ve gone weeks earlier. I didn’t know it, but I had already reached a dangerous stage. It’s one thing to have thoughts about suicide, and it’s another thing to have a plan.

And I had a plan.

During my visit with Cromer, I was told that if I felt worse, felt like acting on my plan, or felt like I was about to harm myself in any way, I should go to the emergency room. 

Later that day, I was told that my services at my job were no longer needed. Losing my job was just another problem I could add to the list. I felt like I was living in a world that was crumbling before my eyes. 

And to make matters worse, finals were approaching, and I was on the verge of failing all of my classes.

I was single, lonely, broke, unemployed and drove a broken car.

I started to deeply miss my brother, Wolf. He was eight years older than I and was killed in a car accident in 1999 in my hometown of Brockton, Mass. We never had a close relationship, but I couldn’t help but think that at this age, we would’ve grown closer, for we would’ve had more things in common.

I had little confidence in my completing school, even less confidence in myself, and I finally reached a point where I wanted to add “dead” to my résumé. I hated life and began thinking that my plan was going to take effect.

I ended up at the hospital that night but not because I had harmed myself. I took Cromer’s advice — I drove myself to the emergency room.

The following months would include a number of visits to Cromer’s office as we discussed a medical withdrawal, which FAU eventually granted, and what my future held.

I also visited the Boca campus a couple times to see Arlene Faranda, who prescribed me an antidepressant.

I considered moving back to Massachusetts to live with one of my older sisters or moving to Tallahassee with my cousin and enrolling in classes at Florida State University. But I felt that a change of scenery would have made it worse rather than better, so I decided to continue living in Port St. Lucie.

The only advice I would give to anyone for whom every day is a struggle is to get help.  Family and friends are usually the first option to turn to, but in my situation, that wouldn’t have helped me.

Medication may not be for everyone, but to my surprise, just being able to talk to someone worked wonders for me. The counseling services at the Boca and Jupiter campuses are big reasons why I’m still alive.

Today, I’m still single; I’m still in the process of reconciling friendships that were damaged during that period; and I’m not any closer to graduation. But some things have changed: I’ve replaced my 1994 Toyota Camry with a 2008 Mercedes C-300, and I’m back at my old job. Thanks to certain additions and subtractions, I now want to live my life to the fullest.